Lovely Agony
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: "I didn't want you to throw your life away, Al. I might not believe much in God, Heaven, or Hell like you do, but if they do exist, I don't want you to go to Hell because of me." .:. Elricest; takes place sometime after the CoS movie. Angst and smut.


**A/N: Haha! I am finally getting around to writing my first sexual Elricest! But it's a good thing that I've done plenty of sexual fanfiction before, so this won't be particularly difficult for me. ;D**

**Oh, the things my pervy mind comes up with…**

**Warnings (but do I really need this for an M-rated fic?): incest, yaoi, masturbation, smut, angst, possible OOC-ness(? –you tell me), and all that is good and right in Fanfiction Land. ;P**

**Takes place sometime after the CoS movie. **

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They wave goodbye to Noah and wish her well as they get off at a miscellaneous stop on their way to America; they figure that, out of all of the places in this world, the free country they keep hearing about sounds like the best place to be, especially to avoid the coming 'second world war' that is constantly mentioned and predicted.

"We should probably find someplace to stay until our train to the seaport in Portugal comes," the older brother of the two suggests mildly. He shrugs. "There's not much else we can do, since it doesn't leave until the day after tomorrow."

His younger brother nods his agreement. "There's an inn over there, I think," he says, pointing a finger. "Should we stay there?"

The other blond smiles. "I guess we don't have much of a choice." He starts walking down the unpaved road towards the three-story building. It looks homey and warm, despite the fall chill that's beginning to set in around them.

"But Brother, do you think we have enough money saved up for two nights?" the honey blond of the two asks.

The older sibling nods once. "I think so. We've been doing a lot of odd-jobs while on the road with Noah, and it seems like we've made enough. But how should I know? The two years I've lived in this world before The Gate was opened, all I ever made were marks, and those are hardly worth anything in Germany. But the money we have now, in this country – where are we, again?"

"The guy we hitchhiked with said that we're in Spain. The countries here might be close together, but they take a long time to get across," the younger brother informs. He runs a hand through his short hair as he glances around at the strange, new surroundings.

"Apparently," the other huffs as he rolls his eyes. He sighs. "Well, alright. I just hope there are some people here who speak better… what's our language called in this world?"

"You're so forgetful, Brother," the younger teases. "It's called English."

"Right. I just hope there are some people around here who speak better English than the French we just left."

The other laughs. "Yeah, me too."

They walk into the inn and are thankful to find that one of the employees speaks perfect English, albeit with a heavy Spanish accent. She asks their names for her logbook, and the older blond brother says with a smile, "The Elrics. Edward," he gestures to himself, "And Alphonse," he gestures to his younger sibling.

The woman jots this down and writes a small number two beside their names to indicate how long they'll be staying. She gives the older brother a price, and even though he's wincing slightly because the price is roughly half of the money they have between them, he agrees and pays for the first night in advance.

Finished logging in, Edward jerks his head up the stairs and glances at the room number hanging from the key in his hand. "Alright, Al, let's go find our room."

"Okay," Alphonse agrees. He gives the woman a smile and thanks her before tagging along behind his older sibling. But as he walks down one of the corridors on the second floor, he can't help but stare after the slightly taller blond, an expression of adoration decorating his young features.

Ever since Alphonse got his memories back from The Gate as equivalent exchange for sacrificing his life in his own world to join his brother on this side, the younger teen can only think of all that his brother has done for and with him all those years that he had been nothing but a metal shell. He feels something stronger than gratitude and affection for his brother, as if in debt to him for keeping his consistent promise of that time to restore his younger brother's body.

Alphonse isn't entirely sure, really, what this stronger feeling is, but lately it has been consuming him. He smiles softly to himself as Edward points out their suite and unlocks the door.

"Well, here we are," he says. Surprisingly, their room is clean and quaint, with two single beds, an end table in between, with a single dresser and a small bathroom. There is even a small balcony out of a single glass door that serves as a window for the entire room.

"Oh, look, Brother!" Al says excitedly as he rushes to the balcony and throws open the door. He leans against the railing and looks out at the very hilly landscape, seeing for what appears to be miles and miles. "It's beautiful."

Ed grins. "Yeah, it is. And you know, if you look closely, there's a thin line of blue past those trees on the horizon before it meets the sky; that's the ocean."

"Wow, an ocean…" the younger murmurs to himself. "We've been to an ocean before, haven't we?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Some lakes, definitely, but I don't remember an ocean in specific. But we went to a lot of places together, so who knows? Maybe we saw one and I just don't remember." Ed shrugs. "Anyway, let's see if there's room service or something. I'm hungry."

"Me, too," Al agrees, and with one last look out at the scenery, he turns around and closes the balcony door behind him.

o.:i:.o

Al tosses and turns, unable to get to sleep properly. It's still early – about eight o'clock – but Edward was worn out from traveling, and went to bed after dinner. Al thought that he had been tired, too, but now he realizes that he is quite awake.

Sighing, he pushes himself up into sitting position and glances around the room. The moonlight is pale and dim, since the moon itself isn't nearly full tonight. The stars as very clear outside the glass door, and Alphonse thinks that he might even see some of the same constellations that he grew up with as a child, in Risembool, all the way on the other side of The Gate.

"Brother?" Alphonse checks, his voice a gentle whisper in the cool air of the night. A light snore paired with one or two mumbled phrases is all he gets in reply. Ed always did talk a little in his sleep; even on the brink of being nineteen, he still does.

That's right; it's the beginning of October (at least the months are the same here, Alphonse thinks to himself), and pretty soon it will be Edward's birthday. Alphonse makes a mental note to save up and get his brother something nice for his birthday, since Al hasn't been able to spend that day with his brother in a long while. Idly, the youngest Elric wonders if it will snow on that day, like it usually does.

Alphonse swings his legs over the side of his bed and takes a couple steps in no particular direction. He doesn't have to go to the bathroom, but he ventures that way anyhow to get a drink of water from the sink. Wiping his mouth, he glances at the simple oval mirror hanging before him.

His reflection is dark and a little difficult to make out the details of, but he frowns as he notices that his body is so young. With his memories returned to him, Alphonse doesn't feel like the thirteen-going-on-fourteen-year-old he appears to be. He feels seventeen, one year behind his brother, like he used to be. Like he _should_ be. He silently curses The Gate for preserving his body in such a stupid way. It should have made him older than this, but then again, all of the time spent searching for the Philosopher's Stone was the price to get this body, wasn't it?

Sighing for a second time, Alphonse wanders back towards his bed, but pauses when he nears his brother's bed along the way. His eyes drift up Edward's form to his face, which is relaxed and much younger-looking while unconscious. Al's gaze softens into a similar look of adoration as he curves around the bed to the space between the two singles. He opts to sit on the edge of his older brother's bed, gazing down at the other's sleeping face.

"I spent a lot of nights like this," Al whispers to himself, "Thinking and wishing all sorts of things while I watched you sleep." He scratches the back of his head. "Actually, I did it almost every night, since I couldn't sleep, not really. Not with a body that doesn't require real sleep." He glances away and lets his hands fall into his lap. Staring out at the night again, he murmurs an octave louder, "But I never thought or wished negatively. I knew that you were trying your best for me, every day, and nighttime was your only relief. I never blamed you for anything; not once."

Alphonse looks back to his brother, who is scratching his chest in his sleep before rolling onto his side, curling inward around where the younger sits. Al smiles fondly and brushes back the bangs that had fallen over Ed's eyes in the process.

But he doesn't remove his hand. Instead, of its own accord, his hand slides down Edward's face, barely touching the soft skin of his cheek, until it rests on his older brother's jaw line. Ed is warm, and just the texture of his skin alone comforts Al; it reminds him that this is real, and not a dream; it reminds him that, despite waiting years and losing so much through hardships along the way, they are together again indefinitely and Al finally has his own body back. He's finally able to experience all of the sensations he missed having as a suit of armor, and he can finally touch his brother again.

Ed's eyes squint in his sleep, and his eyebrows meet and slant upward, as if in pain. Alphonse removes his hand, for a minute thinking that it's his fault, but soon concludes that Edward is dreaming of something that worries him. He starts to mumble some words, and Alphonse leans down to catch what the older Elric is saying.

"Shouldn't… 've…"

Al frowns. Shouldn't have… what?

Ed cringes, and flops onto his back again. "So sorry, Al…"

Sorry for… what? Sleep-talk is always so frustrating. Especially when the eavesdropper doesn't know if the dream is silly nonsense or vitally important, which effects what it is the dreamer says.

The blond makes a pained noise, and sweat collects on his brow. Al cocks his head, wondering if he should wake his brother from the nightmare, or continue to listen to it. He decides to go with the latter, just for a little bit longer.

"Didn't… mean… to…" He stiffens. "…Like… this."

Didn't meant to do what like this? Have things end up like this, or…

Alphonse shakes his head. This is hopeless. He stands up and returns to his own bed, sliding under the sheets and attempting to sleep once more. This time, his attempts are not in vain.

o.:i:.o

The morning brings something to Alphonse's attention: an unfamiliar discomfort in the form of tightness in his pants. He frowns and stirs into full awareness once he comes into full realization of what said tightness could be.

He shoots up into sitting position, glances down, and sure enough, his fears are confirmed. He flushes a deep crimson; he knows what this is, but it's never happened to him before, and he feels heavily embarrassed. He's grateful, however, that his older brother is still asleep and not a witness to this little… _problem._

Shifting uncomfortably and groaning softly in protest, Al hobbles out of bed and slips into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

The noise startles Ed awake. "Al? Izzat you?" he half-yawns, half-questions. He rubs his eyes and forces himself up into a lazy, hunched-backed version of sitting.

Alphonse immediately turns on the shower. He calls out over the running water, "Yeah, it's me. I'll just… uh… be a minute. I thought I'd shower before you got up."

"That's fine," Edward shrugs, yawning for a second time. He falls back onto his pillow and closes his golden eyes again. "Wake me when you're done so I can shower, too."

"Will do!" Al calls back, and as he steps into the freezing water, he prays that his 'problem' will go away.

It doesn't.

Gritting his teeth with a tense jaw, Alphonse timidly reaches down to touch himself, another thing he hasn't done before, at least not since he was a curious child that didn't know what this body part was even there for.

"Ah–!" he gasps, and clamps his free hand over his mouth to stifle the noise, just in case his brother hears him and guesses what his younger sibling is doing. It's never a good time to be caught doing such an act.

Alphonse strokes himself slowly at first, unsure and oddly guilty, while part of his mind that isn't focused on the pleasure tries to remember what he dreamt of to give him this problem. His mind draws blanks, but as his hand moves progressively faster, vague images from last night's dreams breeze into his mind's eye, and as he nears climax, he remembers:

_Golden eyes peer down at him, sparked with lust and glowing with a love Alphonse has never known before. He feels naked, exposed to the world, but the person above him shields him from the world's prying eyes. He feels safe beneath these loving, sensual pair of eyes, and he relaxes into the embrace he hadn't noticed he was in until now._

_The gold eyes for a moment are blocked by golden hair as the person on top of Al bends down and lays tender kisses along his jaw and down onto his throat. Al arches upwards and starts to pant, his entire body aching, longing, _craving_ more._

"_I love you," the person whispers with a husky tone. His lips brush Al's ear, making him shiver. A cold, metallic-feeling hand slides down Alphonse's supple body and rests on his hip. He shivers again and moans as a warm, human hand teases one of his nipples affectionately. _

"_Don't ever leave me," Al hears himself say. "Never again. Two years was too long without you."_

Al's eyes snap open as heat blossoms in the cold shower, spreading down his hand and onto his thighs. He gasps, shudders, and watches his problem disappear. But a new one rises into its place: that dream from last night that he just remembered… it was about would-be sex, but even worse, it had been with _Brother._

Alphonse covers his mouth as his eyes grow wide with shock. But why would he dream something like that? A sibling would _never_ have a sexual dream about their other sibling, no matter how close they were. It's just not… _natural._ Except that's what Al dreamed, he's sure of it. He was being made love to _by his own kin._

"Why…?" he questions as he begins washing his hair, his body numb from shock and tingling from post-orgasm. His legs feel wobbly under him, and he sways slightly in the shower stall. "Unless…"

Unless his subconscious is trying to tell him something.

"I don't… love Brother as more than a brother, do I?" he whispers to himself, his voice sounding harsh and frightened to his own ears. "But… it would make sense. I idolize him and… and there were so many moments when –"

When it felt different between them, like there was something bonding them together that went further than simply blood relation. It was a sort of devotion that two people share when they are all each other have, and all each other need, and all each other will ever care about. A sort of devotion that feels akin to romantic love, in retrospect.

"Oh, no…" Alphonse groans as he bangs his head against the shower stall and shuts off the water. He can't deny it, and he knows that it's true: he really is in love with his own brother.

Fucking fantastic.

o.:i:.o

He has to say something. If he doesn't, it will weigh down on him and make him feel increasingly guilty, and at one point it will nearly tear him apart.

Taking a deep breath, Alphonse tries to think of a way to tell Edward how he feels. Ed has the right to know, Al reminds himself mentally. It's important that he is at least aware of it.

But Al is having second thoughts. He knows that this secret will inevitably eat him up inside, but how can he confess? It could ruin their brotherhood! What if Ed is disgusted with him and leaves him alone? Al couldn't stand for that, not again; it would hurt far too much to be apart from the person he loves so dearly.

And yet, how can he keep it a secret? He's bound to slip up some time, like hugging for too long, or accidentally kissing Edward, or… or…

Alphonse shakes his head in despair. What to do, what to do? While he frets, Ed is currently across the small table from him, reading a book of some sort that the innkeeper lent the two of them.

"You know, this Einstein guy might be onto something," Ed says as he turns a page. "He has all sorts of ideas, like this interesting theory about relativity."

Relativity? As in, relatives? Great, yet another unknown stab to his worries. Ed has been doing it all morning, without realizing it. The first instance was when Al came out of the shower with a towel around his waist, and Edward teased that Al had a nice body for someone who had no body at all for a few years. The second time was when Ed teased that Al should make him breakfast, "like a good little housewife." And now here he goes again, talking about relativity.

Al knows that it's all coincidence, but he inwardly winces every single time.

"Hmm, it looks like the clouds are rolling in," Ed states as he puts down his book and takes a sip of coffee. Almost black, with just enough sugar to take the bitter edge off, and absolutely no milk or cream, just how the blond likes it. "I wonder if it will rain; or storm. That would be cool."

"Would not," Al argues.

"Why not?" Ed grins. "Unless you're still afraid of thunder."

"Am not!" Al retorts. He grows less confident as he adds, "It would just… ruin the nice day, that's all."

Edward smiles cockily. "Oh, I'm sure. But hey, even if you _were_ scared, Big Brother is here to protect you."

He's joking, of course, but that doesn't stop Al from blushing lightly. He glances away from his older brother's playful gold eyes and looks down instead at his tea. He doesn't care for coffee like Edward does, and also unlike Edward, there is plenty of honey and milk in Al's drink. He takes a long sip and ignores the silence between them.

"Hey, why are you so quiet this morning, Al? Normally I can't get you to shut up! What gives?" Ed says suddenly. He leans over the table, which is not a difficult feat, considering how short of a span it has. "Is something wrong? Do you not want to go to America, or…?"

"No, it's not that," Al sighs. He looks up from his tea, but he's suddenly overcome with a blush as he notices how close his older brother's face is to his. He jerks back slightly, which makes Ed look a little puzzled, and proceeds to wave his hands in the air. "And nothing's wrong! Haha, I just must be out of it this morning, that's all! No big deal! Ha haha… Eep!"

Thunder suddenly claps in the distance, booming and fierce. Al jumps in his seat, startled, and a shiver runs down his spine. He felt so childish back in Risembool when Ed was in this world, away from him; he felt afraid at night when the thunderstorms would occasionally roll in and blast away with violent lightning and roaring thunder. Winry would comfort him like a good big-sister-stand-in, but she wasn't good enough; Al had wanted Ed, and only Ed. And now, those memories are flaring up again, along with the desire to be held by the young man across from him.

The older blond's expression softens and he stands up from his seat at the table to step over to his brother and kneel down on one knee next to the younger teen. "Well, that storm is coming in fast. Are you sure you're not afraid?"

His tone is no longer teasing; it sounds light and kind, and it makes Al direct his gaze to his brother's eyes, which are warm and inviting. There is a small smile gracing the older teen's lips.

Al shakes his head. Maybe he could take advantage of this. He pulls his most innocent, scared expression and adds a slight pout. "Maybe I am a little afraid…" He knows that his brother can't resist a chance to be protective. It's in Ed's nature.

Ed smiles wider. "Silly Al. Still the same scaredy-cat from when we were kids." He mocks a sigh and stands up. "Guess it can't be helped, huh? You're younger now, and in a way, you still need me." He makes it sound like he's priding himself on the fact that he's more independent than Al is, but Alphonse can see right through Edward's act; in actuality, Ed is genuinely touched.

The former Fullmetal Alchemist smiles lightly as he steps behind Al's chair and wraps his arms around his younger brother's shoulders, draping his hands in front of the boy's chest and folding them atop one another.

Al smiles as well, raising one hand to hold Ed's automail wrist. He's glad that Ed decided to keep Winry's newest automail until it either breaks or is outgrown, because while they took some of their father's homemade false limbs with them in one of their suitcases, Alphonse prefers the familiar metal to the odd-feeling contraptions.

"It feels good to have you hold me again, Brother," Al whispers, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. He's slipping up already, and as he bites his bottom lip, he wonders if Ed caught the words.

But of course he caught them; his chin is resting right beside Al's ear, so how can such proximity mean he _wouldn't _hear?

Edward seems a little surprised by the statement, but he doesn't pull away, as Alphonse temporarily feared. Instead, Ed chuckles lightly and brushes off the intimacy of the remark. "Yeah, well… I can't say I didn't miss it a little bit," he admits, a rarity for him. He isn't usually so open with his feelings, but Al knows that this mood will pass. It always does. Right on cue, Ed leans away and coughs into one white-gloved hand. "Um, anyway, I have some reading to catch up on; I want to get that book finished before I have to return it when we leave tomorrow. So, uh, if you're still scared, Al…"

"I'll be okay now," Al says reassuringly. "Thanks, Brother."

Ed nods idly and turns around quickly to pick up the borrowed book and retreat to his bed to read it. But he knows he won't be able to concentrate at first; his mind is buzzing with thoughts. Odd, teeming thoughts that he had been trying to put off since he first saw Al in person again.

Unknown to Alphonse, Edward had been dying slowly inside while he was unable to see his baby brother for two years. He had been worried sick; what if the transmutation hadn't worked, and Al had died or gotten a deformed body or some other atrocity? He had been almost too sick to find out, but he was a little relieved when Al was able to visit him for a while as a piece of soul attached to a suit of armor from the forces that invaded Liore.

But Ed knew why, even before he crossed over to this side of The Gate. He knew why he was sacrificing so much for Al, why he didn't care what happened to himself as long as Al survived, and why he ached so terribly while he was away, being selfish by wanting it both ways: getting Al's body back and being there to watch him grow.

Edward knew why: because he fell in love with his younger sibling sometime during their journey for the Stone. He fell deeply in love, a sort of love that evolved from brotherly devotion to centering his entire world on a single person. Everything he did after their mother's failed resurrection ended up being done for Al, if not a little bit for Ed himself _because_ it was to get Al's body back.

It almost makes no sense. How could it come to this, looking at his suit-of-armor-clad brother and seeing the soul within and nothing else, and looking at his returned-to-flesh-and-blood brother and seeing the same thing, only intensified with an unfamiliar desire?

Because Alphonse is sinfully attractive, even in a younger body and being Ed's sibling. Al has a sort of beauty that Ed doesn't even want to begin to think about, because it's a physical beauty, yes, but it's also a soulful beauty. Al has always been sweet and caring and gentle, as opposed to Ed's rash, slightly violent, explosive personality. Edward knows that he's had his sentimental moments or moments of kindness, but for the most part, he feels pale in comparison to his brother. He feels like the true sinner of the two of them, and he wonders every so often if he's weighing his little brother down with all of his sins.

Shaking his head and setting the unread book down, Ed lays his human forearm over his eyes and exhales through his nose. He can hear bouts of thunder and the gentle downpour of rain as the storm hits the town with full force. He can almost hear hail, but Edward knows that it's not quite cold enough for that, at least not here. Spain is mostly warm, even in October.

"–ther…" Alphonse says, partially cut off by a sharp, lengthy rumble of thunder. He's visibly shaking. It was played up before, Ed knew, but right now he can tell that Al is truly frightened.

Ed smiles, forcing himself to hesitate to respond so not to expose his inner feelings. "What?"

"Um…" Al blushes, "C-can I… I mean, i-is it okay if I…"

Edward laughs and scoots over on the bed, patting beside his right side with a thudding metal palm and clanking metal fingers. "Sure, Al. Hop in."

Still blushing, Ed notes, his brother climbs in beside him and leans against him, his head resting on Edward's firm chest. Al can hear his brother's heart beating, the beats skipping into a faster speed as Al brings his arm around Ed's stomach to his left side. Al frowns at this, unsure what it means, but ignores it and snuggles down into his brother's embrace. Ed is so warm, and while he breathes, Alphonse can close his eyes and pretend for a moment that this means more than it actually does.

It's easy to fall back asleep when they're like this: not on a particular schedule, caught in the middle of a thunderstorm, and laying this close. So Al does; he drifts off into a semi-dreaming state, and he senses that Ed is doing the same by the way his breathing is slowing, along with his heart rate.

And Al makes a silent, distant pact with himself to tell Edward tonight, just in case the confession changes their plans; he has to tell him before it's too late to go back.

o.:i:.o

That evening, after dinner, Alphonse walks over to his brother's bedside, where the older blond is stretched out with his back against some propped-up pillows on the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankle before him, and his hands holding that same book he tried to read this morning before their nap together.

Al peers over his brother's shoulder, pretending to read along with him. In reality, the sandy blond is trying to gather up the courage to speak to his brother. His heart is hammering in his chest, aching dully with the pain that comes with severe anxiety over an issue. His hands feel clammy, and he automatically draws his lower lip between his teeth and nibbles on it.

"Hmm?" Ed hums in curiosity as he notices Al standing close to him. He tears his eyes from the paragraph he's currently reading and glances up into his younger sibling's greyish-gold colored eyes. "What's up, Al?"

"Brother," Alphonse begins dryly. He swallows and licks his lips. He tries again, "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Anything," Ed complies as he sets his book down and turns in his bed to sit cross-legged, facing Alphonse. "What's on your mind? And can you make it quick, 'cause I'm almost done with this stupid book. It was interesting at first, but –"

"This won't take long," Al says, and does Ed detect a hint of resentment in Al's tone? But resentment towards whom, and what for?

"Well then, shoot," Edward says cautiously, one of his eyebrows rising. He leans forward, placing his chin in his left hand while the elbow rests on the side of his knee.

"Brother," Al says, taking in a deep breath as if preparing himself for something painful, "I… love you."

Ed frowns, his golden eyebrows creasing his forehead. "I don't know why you look so shaken up, then, Al, 'cause I lo–"

"No!" Alphonse interjects hotly. His face is flushing, and he's no longer looking his older brother in the eye. He twists up his fingers in his lap as he backs up and sits down on the edge of his own bed. "It's not like that. I mean... I do love you that way, like a brother, but… it's more than that. I really… truly… _love _you."

Edward blinks in surprise, his mind scrambling to keep up. "What…?" he says dumbly, his jaw growing slack and his mind drawing up blanks all of a sudden.

Alphonse scowls, mostly at himself, his face turning redder, blossoming from solely his cheeks to all the way across the bridge of his nose. "I love you, Dummy. I've been holding it back for a while now, and recently… I've been having… _dreams_ about you. And the last one, ah, woke me up rather rudely this morning. It's just that… I don't know… no one else compares to you, Ed. You've always been there for me. We were alone together for so long, shutting almost everybody out except each other. I've always… looked up to you, adored you, but I guess… I guess it had to change one of these days. I know it's wrong – probably one of the worst taboos I can make – but it's true." He smiles sadly. "Besides, I figure: what's one more sin?"

This is awful. Edward is frozen, and silently debating with himself as he eyes dart back and forth across Al's face, listening but not really seeing. He's thinking too much; he's thinking of how he ended up bringing down his little brother yet again, only this time with his unspoken, foolish emotions, and even though a tiny part of Ed is delighted that his feelings aren't one-sided, he knows what's best for his little brother, and incest isn't it.

So, biting down bile that's burning the inside of his throat, Edward casts his head downward and shields his eyes from view, because he knows that their watery, on-the-brink-of-tears appearance will ruin what he knows he has to do.

"Brother? Please say something. I… I can't stand not knowing –"

Edward mentally curses at himself. He grinds his teeth together, making a _tch_ sound as he stands up from his bed and moves to place his hands on Alphonse's shoulders. He doesn't look his younger sibling in the eye, but he tightens his grip slightly.

"Alphonse," he says darkly, his tone strict. He knows that this is going to wound them both, but he can't stand by and let his brother ruin his life like this. It kills Edward to know that he indirectly pushed his own disgusting, incestuous love on his brother; he's filled with self-hatred for this, because he knows that it's all his fault. All his fault, always entirely his fault… "Don't think like that. It's not real. You're just feeling a little over-dependent or something; it's not romantic love you feel for me. We're _blood brothers, _for fuck's sake; you _can't_ feel that way. It's against what your so-called God wishes, and it's socially _unacceptable._" He jerks his hands away, jarring a zombie-looking Al. "So don't go telling me something like that. It's _revolting,_ and I won't have it."

Ed turns away and stalks out of the room, slamming the door shut, the room key in his pocket jangling like a cruel reminder of what he had just done, as well as acting as the fact that yes, he will have to come back and face this again.

But what else could the former state alchemist do? He couldn't very well corrupt his brother that way, as much as he wants to; it just wouldn't be right. He would hate himself even more for making yet another mistake.

And yet he feels like he just did make another mistake, because a brick of lead is sinking in the pit of his stomach, and tears are streaming down his face uncontrollably. His heart is bleeding; he can feel it deflating, much like his aching lungs, as he sinks against a pillar at the base of the stairs in an empty landing. He balls up into fetal position, his ponytail coming loose as he quietly sobs onto his knees.

It hurts, and badly. But Edward knows that this is for the best; he loves his baby brother too much to allow him to carry out such a forbidden thing. He felt the same way years ago when Al wanted to help bring their mother back to life; he had allowed it then because he trusted nobody else and because Trisha Elric was Al's mother, too, but this? This is different. This is… _incest._

Besides, Edward knows that things will eventually go wrong if he permitted it. If he acted on his feelings, they could be too strong for Al, and, selfishly, Ed doesn't want to be hurt even worse like that. He knows that, someday, even if Al didn't outright reject Edward's sexual desire for him, Al would end up falling in love with someone else – a nice girl in America, perhaps, or even a handsome young man – and he would dump his brother for that other person, and _that_ would hurt even more.

So, really, while Ed cast aside his young sibling's feelings partially out of protection for the younger, he also did it to protect himself.

And the fact that he's once again shielding himself makes Edward bite his tongue until it bleeds, just to punish himself.

o.:i:.o

Meanwhile, Alphonse hasn't moved for a decent amount of time, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. He hasn't moved an inch since Edward left him there, staring dim-eyed and dazed.

But, slowly, as his state sinks in fully and the numbness wears off, the strongest wave of internal pain young Alphonse has ever known in his life starts to consume him.

It begins in his chest; a ragged, bloody knife wound pricking away at his heart. The knife's handle, it feels, is jutting out of his chest cavity while the tip of its blade seems to stab his heart with each beat. Idly, Al clutches his shirt with one hand, over his sternum.

The tears come, streaming down his face silently and without stopping. He feels cold, bizarrely cold, like a suit of armor, but without the protection. He collapses backward, his spine meeting the mattress as its springs squeal under the sudden shift of weight.

He never knew that heartbreak could be so wounding.

"But what had I expected?" he cries to himself, his free hand coming up and covering his eyes, his tears leaking through his fingers and slipping down his temples and onto the sheets below. "I knew he loved me, which means I thought it might be okay and that he might stay with me even if his love was only brotherly, but…" He chokes on a hiccup and curls onto his side, his hands dropping onto the bed to clench the sheets, fisting the fabric and twisting it up in his grasp. "But I was stupid about it." He turns his face into the bed and shouts, his voice muffled: "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Alphonse!"

He almost wanted to hate his brother for breaking his heart like this, for making him ache so, but he couldn't. He's said it before: he could never hate his big brother, no matter what. And this time, despite being so painful, is no exception.

After a while, Al calms down and shimmies up to his proper place on the twin bed. He lies on his pillow and cocoons himself in the blankets until he eventually falls asleep, the pain momentarily vanishing.

o.:i:.o

Edward returns to the room after a long evening roaming around the Spanish town, getting lost and then finding his way again. It's after ten o'clock when he finally unlocks the door and steps into their shared room at the inn.

It's dark when he enters, so he concludes that Al must be asleep. He sheds his coat and walks shyly towards the two twin beds, and gently places the room key on the end table between them.

He glances to his left, at the bed closest to the small table and chairs near the door to the miniature balcony. Al is definitely asleep, and in the pale moonlight, Ed can make out trails of dried tears on the younger teen's face.

He sighs through his nose, his expression melting into that of agony. He feels troubled and lonely, because he isn't sure what the morning will bring. Will Al leave him because Ed rejected his sentiments?

Careful so no to wake the honey blond, Edward takes a step to his left and sits facing his brother, one leg bent at the knee on the bed and the other stabilizing him on the floor. He hesitantly reaches out his soft, human hand towards Alphonse's face, debating with himself whether or not he should torment himself by touching the boy.

He caves in and does so anyhow. But he's glad that he does, because the touch makes Al unconsciously roll onto his back, his head tilting towards his left shoulder, nearest to Ed. He smiles sadly and leans forward, about to place a kiss at the corner of Al's mouth.

But before he can do so, the boy's face is contorting in pain. Ed reels back and watches with sick fascination as Alphonse whimpers in his sleep.

And, apparently taking after his older sibling, Al starts to mumble in his sleep, his voice high and wavering. "It… _hurts_, Br'th'r… you… hurt me…" he whimpers again, and tears sting the back of Edward's eyes as he watches. But Al isn't done. He goes on, "Why… can't… I… love you…?"

A single tear leaks out from under Al's left eyelid and slides down his cheek.

And it nearly breaks Ed's heart all over again.

"I'm sorry, Al," he whispers delicately. He bends down and touches Alphonse's right cheek with his hand as his head hovers dangerously close to Al's ear. He repeats something that he didn't know Al already heard parts of earlier that morning, while Ed had been dreaming: "I shouldn't have coddled you so much. I made you feel too secure with me, and it led you to loving me. Loving me… in the way that I love you. I didn't mean to love you like this, but I don't think I could have stopped it, either."

And then, finally, he moves over slightly and pecks his previously intended kiss to Alphonse's lips.

The action causes Alphonse to stir, until Ed is slowly pulling away and caught red-handed when Al opens his eyes. "Brother…? What are you doing?"

Al thought he had felt a kiss somewhere between where his happy (but not particularly memorable) dream ended and where this harsh reality began. But he isn't entirely sure of his previous thought, and now he's left puzzling up at his brother's figure in the dim lighting.

Edward flushes with an unseen blush, the heat fogging up his head. "Um… I just got back. I wanted to make sure that you were all right."

Alphonse smiles. So Ed still _does _care, even if he doesn't return my feelings, the younger thinks. He yawns cutely and catches Ed sighing as he starts to stand. "Wait, Brother," Al says a hair desperately. He grabs Edward's sleeve. "I… I want to know if my feelings for you change how you… _see_ me. Do I disgust you?"

He tone is half-pleading, half-defiant, as if he can't decide whether or not to beg his big brother or challenge him.

Ed swallows hard. "You could never disgust me, Al. You're just… a little weird, that's all. But you've always been a weirdo, right?" he jokes, forcing a lighter tone and a fake smile. He ruffles his younger brother's hair. "Now go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

But just as he's about to get up again, Alphonse yanks him back by the sleeve for a second time. He pulls himself up into sitting position and looks Ed dead in the eye. "But Brother, I only woke up because I thought I felt something touch my lips." He pauses, and watches as Edward glances away nervously. "Did you kiss me?" he dares to ask.

Still not looking at the slightly shorter male, Ed nods sheepishly. "Uh, maybe. What does it matter?"

Al knows that Ed is trying to play this off as nothing. It's not working. "It _matters_ because it felt like it was on my _mouth._ Brothers don't kiss like that unless they're children who don't know any better." He removes his grip on his brother's sleeve and frowns at him, his arms crossing. Ed, on the other hand, is shifting uncomfortably.

"Okay, so, yeah, I did kiss you. On the lips. But it's n–"

"If you say that it's not a big deal, Brother, I swear that I'll slap you. What's going on? I thought you said –" Al sputters, part of him confused and a little angry, and part of him healing on the inside, his spirits being lifted with hope.

"I said a lot of mean things," Ed admits quietly, "And most of them were true, to an extent. Incest _is_ wrong and forbidden and not socially acceptable. But…" He takes a deep, shaky breath, "_But,_" he admits, "It doesn't mean that… I don't return your feelings anyway."

Alphonse blinks in shock. "Then… why did you reject me like that? It hurt, Brother; more than you know."

"I have an idea," Ed murmurs under his breath. Then, louder, he answers: "I didn't want you to throw your life away, Al. I might not believe much in God or Heaven or Hell like you do – or used to? – But if they do exist, I don't want you to go to Hell because of me. I love you, so I want what's best for you. And I don't think I'm the right choice." He lowers his voice again. "Besides… I don't want to get hurt later on, since you're young and your feelings could fade, but I don't think mine ever will."

Alphonse can't believe what he's hearing. Slowly, a grin breaks out across his face and he leaps forward, fully awake now, and hugs his older sibling, his arms locking behind Ed's neck.

He tells the blond, "Oh, Brother, you don't need to worry about all that! I don't care, honest; I don't care at all. If I go to Hell, then you'll be right there with me; and I know that no one will ever come between us, so you're just being dumb for thinking someone could. I'll always love you, because you're my big brother and there's no one else I'd rather spend my life with."

A lopsided smile lifts one corner of Ed's mouth as he brings one arm around the middle of Al's back. He almost wants to thank Al, simply because he says – no matter the situation - precisely what Edward needs to hear.

The elder Elric turns his face in their embrace and places another kiss on Al's mouth. This time, since the younger teen is awake to receive it, Al inwardly continues to smile as he returns the affectionate gesture.

Edward ceases all thought. He instead acts on impulse (more than usual, anyhow), and doesn't bother to remind himself of his relation to the person he's currently cradling in his arms. He doesn't acknowledge the fact that it's his kid brother that he's laying down onto the sheets, that it's his own kin that he's slipping his tongue into the mouth of, or that it's his own flesh and blood that he's slowly undressing.

Because he doesn't care. Like Al, he honestly does not care any longer. Why should it matter, when Al feels the same way and is just as willing? Why is it wrong, when they complete each other, body and soul?

The former state alchemist almost wishes that they hadn't been born brothers. But he knows that this is a foolish, pointless wish, because if they weren't, then would they have ever met? Would they still be as close? And would they still be soul mates?

"Ed… ward…" Al whispers, lust lacing his usually innocent-sounding voice. He knows not to call him 'Brother,' because it would ruin the moment, ruin the act. He instead tests the rarely used name out on his tongue, and finds that he likes how it sounds. It makes him feel more mature, if only because he's not stooping down to a child's level by calling Edward by his title of relation.

Al's shirt is spread wide open now, and he can feel Ed's lips brushing and occasionally kissing down his chest. The younger is focusing mostly on the sensations, really, because he had been deprived of them for so long. He sighs contentedly as Edward's down shirt is cast onto the floor, the skin of their bare chests coming together warmly. Alphonse wonders idly how true his dream will become.

The golden blond hovers above his brother, his entire body shaking with pure, unadulterated _want._ Alphonse looks so cute down there, pressed into the inn sheets, his eyes closed and his body expecting. There is a faint blush in the moonlight, and it somewhat amuses the older Elric.

Smirking to himself, Edward dips down to give Alphonse a stray lick to one of his pink buds, while one of his hands – the automail one, he realizes due to lack of sensation – languidly slips down Al's not-quite-developed chest to his quivering stomach, and on to the button of his pants, since he hadn't changed out of his day-clothes before falling asleep. Ed unfastens the slacks and lets his right hand barely brush Al's underwear before unzipping his fly and yanking his pants off and down into the abyss of the blankets with one swift movement.

Al gasps and curls up into his big brother, one of his hands on Ed's shoulder digging into the skin with its nails. The teeny needle-pricks of pain keep Edward alert, and he smirks again as he casually balances himself above his younger sibling with his left hand while his cool, metallic right hand traces a random pattern up Alphonse's bare leg, giving the younger boy goosebumps.

"S-stop it, Ed," he begs, his face flushing further as he peeks open one eye. He hates what a tease he brother can be.

"'M sorry," Ed slurs a whisper as he bends down to plant a wet kiss on Al's collarbone. He younger moans in response, and against his thigh, Ed can feel his brother react in another way.

Acting quickly, Edward removes his own trousers until he's bare above his brother, feeling a little insecure but ignoring it as he aims to make Al the same. He removes the last bits of clothing – the sleeves keeping Al's shirt on him, and his underwear – until they are pressed together, a little sticky with sweat but oddly addicted to the feel of each other's skin.

"You're so soft," Ed teases lightly, running his human hand down his brother's side and onto his hip. He gives the boy's hip and small squeeze. "I'm so happy that we were able to get your body back. You were the same to me when you were in that armor, Al, but damn it all, I hated that you couldn't feel me when I touched you."

"Me, too," the younger replies breathlessly. He nuzzles his nose into Ed's shoulder as Edwards starts to rub up against him, leaning forward and back and making Alphonse see stars behind his eyelids.

But, suddenly, Ed is slipping lower and lower, until his head is between Al's spread legs. Alphonse opens his eyes and looks down. "Edward…? What are you doing?"

"Let me try something, Al," the older murmurs as he places one hand on the outside of Al's thigh. The other he places lower, his fingers curving around half of Al's bottom, Ed's thumb placed close to his entrance.

Without warning, Edward dunks his blond head down and suddenly Al can't see anything anymore, because his eyes are shutting on their own and his head is tilting back and his mouth is opening into a silent yell as his bold big brother is taking Al's length into his hot mouth, his slick tongue lapping and twirling and oh, sweet _mercy_, why did Ed have to go and do _that?_

Al hands clench the sheets as his head thrashes side to side ever to often, his pelvis uncontrollably rolling to and fro in and out of Edward's skilled mouth. He whined quietly, his face heating up and a strange, liquid-y feeling rising up in his veins and building, building, until it's to the brink of breaking like an over-full dam. He cries out softly as he comes hastily into Edward's mouth.

Ed smiles and licks his lips, noting vaguely that Al should stop putting so much sugar in his tea, because it's affecting other parts of him. He leans up and says huskily, "Notice anything?"

At first, Alphonse is too blinded with pleasure to even begin to register the words, but as their meaning and other feeling in his body come back to him, Alphonse understands: right before his climax, when his body had been relaxed completely, Ed had slid his thumb into Al's entrance to start preparing him.

And now, with that digit inside of him and the others of that hand cupping his rear, Al finally sees what's about to happen, and he realizes that he's oddly calm and welcoming towards the notion.

Steadily, Ed leans up and distracts Al with a kiss, his tongue delving in at the same time that he starts thrusting his thumb in and out, making Al tense up at first, but then slowly relaxing as Edward massages the ring of muscles and teases and small sweet spot near the back that causes Al to buck forward beyond his control, and start to moan.

It's when he's able to switch out his thumb for his pointer and middle fingers that Ed knows his little brother is ready. He doesn't want to hurt him, though, so he adds his ring finger to the mix and continues thrusting until Al's body language is basically begging Ed to give it the real thing.

So, naturally, the older male complies. He positions himself and slowly presses into the tight warmth of his brother, succeeding in connecting them completely as Ed kiss his brother's earlobe and soothingly strokes his back with his human hand.

Al flings his arms around his brother, one around his neck and the other around his waist. Their stomachs are nearly touching, there is sweat and heat all around the young teen, and he feels dizzy, but there is so much joy bubbling inside him for finally being whole that he doesn't care about the soreness he know will make him want to murder Ed later.

"I love you," Alphonse reminds his older sibling in a hoarse whisper. Edward doesn't answer. But that's okay, because Al knows that Ed must love him with all his heart if the blond is making love to him, committing the ultimate taboo; perhaps one even greater than human transmutation.

Ed starts moving, thrusting in, sliding out to the head of his member, and then diving back in again. Alphonse can't control himself; he acts on instinct, following Edward's action as if rehearsed, and moaning his brother's name on occasion.

Edward feels as though his heart is about to burst. He clings to Al, burying his head in the boy's shoulder and sighing and grunting with ach movement, trying to speak the name on his lips but unable to do so. He loves Alphonse so much; he would do anything for him, even this, to make him happy. He suddenly realizes how foolish he had been earlier, and is trying to make it up to the both of them, since they both went through so much pain from one incident, one little mistake.

Except that's how their lives have nearly always been, isn't it? Full of pain from constant mistakes, only lessened when they were together during one of those rare, peaceful moments.

And not they can finally have their bliss.

It doesn't take long for Edward to spill his seed and cease all movement, the lazy nature of post-orgasm sinking in to his bones. He hadn't noticed at the time, but at some point during the lovemaking Al had come again, the mess on their stomach as proof. But now Al is asleep, and it's just before midnight.

Edward rolls into a comfortable position beside his brother, purposely not taking notice of the sound made when he unsheathes. He sighs and brings Al into his arms, watching in the moonlight the peaceful expression on the boy's face.

It was agony through and through, but Edward thinks that the pain is over now, and all that's left is the equivalent exchange for so much heartache: the lovely relief of having all he ever wanted.


End file.
